


ADDICTION

by alekstraordinary



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse, Angst, Child Abuse (mentioned), Dating, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Drug Abuse, Drugs, Family Issues, Fluff, Human!verse, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Physical Abuse (mentioned), Rehab, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, being sweet and gross, bitter sweet, drugs overdose, happy end, homelessness (mentioned), it has a happy ending, junkie!Lucifer, mental abuse (mentioned), new start, professor!Cain, professor!Gabriel, relationships, very very low-key mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-14 04:10:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16485668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alekstraordinary/pseuds/alekstraordinary
Summary: Lucifer Novak's life was never easy—he was kicked out of home at a young age, he dropped out of college and eventually gave into a drug addiction. An overdose brings his little brother Gabriel back into his life, and Gabriel promised to take care of Lucifer from now on. That's how he meets an awfully charming History professor, Cain Knight.





	1. I

Life was never easy, at least not for him. 

 

Being born as the second  child  into an extremely Christian family, with four other brothers and an alcoholic father , already gave him more than enough reasons to complain. All he’s ever known throughout his childhood was wearing worn-out clothes, being hungry more often than not and hiding in the closet with his younger brothers, keeping them away from seeing their father passed out somewhere on the floor.

 

Children should stay hopeful, and despite all the obstacles  i n his way, he did. He stayed hopeful for a very long time. Each day seemed like another trial for him, ripping away tiny shreds of hope, but he held onto it for his dear life. He kept this little flame burning in his chest when his father kicked him out of the house at  eighteen , he kept it burning when he struggled with college , only to eventually drop out . H e even kept it burning when he completely lost contact with his beloved little brother , Gabriel.

 

However, the world isn’t made for those with childish hopes and dreams , a nd so, his flame burn ed out.

 

Even after years have passed, he can still vividly remember when his life completely shattered. It was a warm night in April. The world was just waking up after the winter sleep. The streets were still slightly wet after a light rain that had passed the town just a couple  of  hours earlier. But this night wasn’t a pleasant one, not for him. He had just found out that he failed one of the important exams in college, and the professors weren’t sure if they would allow him to take the exam again due to how rarely he actually showed up to lectures, even the mandatory ones. This one stupid little test could just as well destroy all his hopes of being a lawyer, and with how the things were, it was highly likely that he would have to beg for another chance.

 

Fuck.

 

As always during his low moments, he went to the nearby pub. A dirty and unpleasant  ( but at least a cheap ) place, tucked away between a tattoo salon and a vacant building. He surely would never come here in the daylight . B ut after such an awful day, he just needed a distraction. He ordered the same thing — double whisky with ice — and took his seat by the bar, minding his own business. He was halfway through his second glass when someone  slid onto the barstool next to him — a tall, long-haired, pretty someone. Her lipstick was deep red like blood and her eyes shone like a sin. There was no reason why someone like this would ever sit next to him. Or at least so he thought.

 

He wasn’t willing from the start. As soon as he realized what she was trying to suggest, he just wanted to have her gone . H e didn’t need this in his life, not with how bad it already was. She wouldn’t let him get rid of her so quickly . S he talked and touched and convinced and even bought him another round until he gave in. He left the bar with a tiny foil packet filled with white powder.

 

That’s when the flame burn ed out. 

 

After he returned to his flat, he  laid the packet down on his desk on the top of his textbooks, still unable to comprehend what he’ d done. It was illegal . T his bit of white powder could very well destroy the life he was trying to maintain for so long. His college, his job — all of that could just slip from his hands. Yet for some reason, despite knowing all of that and being perfectly aware of possible consequences, his hands still itched. He’ d heard people talk about drugs before, how it’s better than alcohol, how it lets them let go of all of their worries for a few blessed hours. That’s what made him rip open the packet.

 

The first line burned in his nose and throat. He never even smoked, so the feeling was completely unfamiliar and he regretted his decision almost immediately. Then it kicked in. And it felt  _ good _ . 

 

It was better than he ever expected it to be, all of his worries and fears gone. His skin felt hot and his heart was beating uncomfortably fast , but he felt so … so good. He felt like he could achieve everything, like there was nothing that could possibly stop him. He was on the top of the world, his future in his arms. He could do it. He would do it. He would graduate from college, he would become the most famous lawyer in the entire state. State? No. In the country. World. He would be the best lawyer in the world. Gabriel would be proud . Castiel would be proud . Balthazar would be proud. Yes. He could, and he would. It was his. His dream . H e could make it the reality. And he would. Dad. Dad would be proud.  _ Dad would be proud _ .

 

The drugs wearing off was easily worse than any hangover he’d ever had. His head pounded, he threw up everything he’d had in his stomach and spent a good hour on the floor just shaking. It was horrible … but worth it. These moments of euphoria he had on the high were the best ones he’s ever lived through, or at least the best ones he could remember. This feeling was such a different one from his bland, miserable, everyday existence, and he had found himself already carving more.  _ Next week _ , he thought to himself. He couldn’t give up his entire life for a few moments on the high.  _ I’ll get more next week _ . 

 

It only went downhill from there.

 

He thought that he would be able to not get addicted , that he knew himself enough and that he had enough self control that he wouldn’t fall into the habit. That, however, was a lie. He stayed in this denial even when a weekend pleasure turned into something he looked forward to the entire week . H e kept repeating that he has it under control when once a week turned into twice a week, and he even kept pushing the facts down when “just one line” turned into way,  _ way _ more than one. His savings were melting faster than snow in spring, all of it buried under the faint, white powder. Even then , he refused to acknowledge that it’s wrong, that it’s bad, that it’s going to destroy him. It was only when he lost his job and his account was so skinny that he couldn’t afford another deal was when he realized.

 

His life crashed.

 

Somehow, the college he attended found out about his little habit and kicked him out, giving him no option of ever returning there. He should be happy that they didn’t inform the authorities, otherwise he could spend few good years behind bars . B ut in the state he was in at that point, all he could think about was getting high again. He had to find a job, a new source of money just to be able to get rid of that itch under his skin, one that he was unable to scratch. After getting a job at some poor little diner , he still wasn’t able to buy a line, at least not one good enough. He switched to prescription meds. They weren’t as good as coke . T hey didn’t give him such a kick and didn’t bring such euphoria, rather putting him in some sort of a haze, but that was good enough. Good enough to stop thinking about how everything was falling apart.

 

It got worse.

 

For the next seventeen years to come, he was a mess, plummeting deeper and deeper into the black void of regret and addiction, even when he thought that he already hit rock bottom. What at first was only a weekly pleasure, a way of relaxing, now became his whole life. He didn’t care when he was losing weight and his skin was breaking and scarring. He didn’t care when he lost apartment after apartment and was forced to live in the streets. He didn’t care when nobody wanted to hire a junkie, even to a crappy-paying job. All he cared about was getting some more pills to quiet down the hunger rumbling down in his stomach, chasing the sleep away from his eyes and putting him in stress and pain whenever he couldn’t get anything for a while. 

 

Somehow, even despite of how addicted he was to anything he could put his hands on, he always knew how much exactly he had to take. Never too little, never too much, no matter whether he was on hunger or in a haze, reaching for another dose, he always knew exactly how much he should take so his weakened body could process.

 

Until one night he didn’t.

 

Dying was supposed to be peaceful. That’s how he imagined it, just falling asleep without a single thought in his mind, his body slowly shutting down. This,  _ this _ was a torture. His guts twisting and tugging and tying into knots long after he already threw up everything he had in his stomach, bile with a hint of blood running down his chin as he  laid on the floor of his shabby apartment. His skin was so painfully hot , he thought it was going to melt off of his bones at any second. His heart thrashed painfully in chest, as if trying to crush his ribs and break free. His mouth was full of foam when he slowly slipped into the darkness, his body convulsing in spasms.

 

This is how, at age of  thirty-five , Lucifer Novak died.

 

Or at least he thought so.

 

The next time he gained consciousness, he knew he wasn’t dead. It hurt too much, and as his older brother used to say, if it hurts, it means you’re alive. In this case , it could only mean that Lucifer was  _ very _ alive. Every inch of his body, every muscle, every fiber  _ ached _ , and his head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. He could hear beeping coming from somewhere above his head, a steady, slow rhythm.

 

_ Beep… beep… beep… _

 

Lucifer tried to move, but it caused him too much pain to just do this one, simple action. He tried to open his eyes, but the lights shining above his head were too harsh for him. He screwed them shut again, grunting at the sting, an odd, sterile smell biting his nostrils. That’s when he heard another sound coming from wherever the hell he was. That sound was different, less artificial, more … human. Ragged, short breaths with a strange wet tone to it.

 

Someone was crying.

 

With the little energy he had, Lucifer opened his eyes slightly, squinting them in the bright light. He was lying in a bed under a pile of freakishly white sheets,  by  far the most comfortable thing he’s ever found himself in for the past  few  years. There was a needle in his hand secured with a piece of  bandage , connected to a tube disappearing somewhere above his head. A drip. He was in a hospital. This annoying beeping must have been the machine observing his heart rate, making sure that he doesn’t go into another attack or simply die. But what was he doing there?

 

He shifted his gaze away from the tube in his arm, his mind already wondering whether he was connected to a morphine pump. And if so, whether he can boost it up. He looked over at the person who was in the room with him, sitting on an uncomfortabl e -looking chair. It was a man in a white button-down with its sleeves rolled up. Lucifer couldn't tell how old the man was, due to the fact that he sat with his face in his hands, sobbing, but there was something familiar about him. About the way he sat, and about the shade of his hair, hell, even about this dumb way it curled on the back of his neck.

 

“Ga… Gabriel…?” 

 

The man in the chair froze, his whole body stiff. He slowly peeled his hands away from his face, looking at Lucifer with a well-known pair of ridiculously golden eyes. He'd changed. His hair was longer, and he grew a beard, and there were little wrinkles around his eyes , no doubt from smiling too much, and his glasses had different frames, and he's changed just so,  _ so _ much. He wasn't a boy anymore, he was a man , b ut Lucifer didn't have the faintest hint of doubt. It was Gabriel. It was his little brother. 

 

“Oh, God, Luci!” In a heartbeat, Gabriel was already out of his chair and with his arms wrapped tightly around Lucifer's hurting body. “Never do that to me again, you fucker! I was so worried about you!” he cried into Lucifer's shoulder.

 

He didn’t know how to react. He hasn't seen Gabriel in … ten? Twelve? No, fifteen years. It's been fifteen years since Lucifer last saw his little brother. It's been a long, long time, but somehow, Gabriel was here now. His voice was cracking and breaking at the edges as he explained to Lucifer what had happened. About the overdose, about how Gabriel never changed his phone number in the hopes that one day Lucifer would reach out, how the hospital found the very same number in the little medical records Lucifer had. At some point, a doctor came by, only to repeat exactly the same what Gabriel said — about the damages done and consequences to follow. About how unpleasant the detox is going to be and that he should be looking for a strict rehabilitation centre already, if he doesn’t want to go to jail.

 

Right after the doctor left, Lucifer fell back asleep, too exhausted and hurting to stay conscious. He thought that maybe it was all a dream and Gabriel was never there , b ut the next time he woke up, Gabriel was still sitting on the chair by his side. 

 

They talked more.

 

Well, Gabriel talked, and Lucifer listened. He listened to Gabriel tell him about what Lucifer missed from the little brother’s life ,  how he managed to move out of their father’s house at  nineteen and take Balthazar and Castiel with him. They all worked some low-paying jobs in order to be able to afford a tiny flat with barely enough space for all three of them, but they’ve managed. Gabriel was apparently doing college at the same time, successfully getting a Master’s degree in Physics and Professor’s in Mythology at the age of  twenty-eight , the brilliant man he was. A year ago, he met a boy a whole  ten years younger , but by the way Gabriel spoke about him, Lucifer would see just how deeply in love Gabriel was.

 

Then he spoke about the rest. Balthazar was off travelling through Europe with the band he’d formed before dropping out of high school , and it seemed like he was doing well. Castiel was still in the country. According to Gabriel’s stories, and the pictures he showed Lucifer on his phone, Castiel was doing even better. He got married to a mechanic named Dean just two years ago, and three months ago , their daughter Charlie was born. 

 

Once the family stories were exchanged, Gabriel went on talking about finding a rehabilitation centre, just as the doctor advised them, but that was already when Lucifer switched off, his mind trailing away. He still looked at Gabriel and listened to his voice, but he no longer differentiated the words. This whole situation seemed so surreal, so strange, and simply too good to be true. Maybe Lucifer did die that night. 

 

Maybe he died and this was Heaven.


	2. I I

If getting Gabriel back was Heaven, then going through rehab was Hell. After being addicted to drugs for so many years and overdosing, Lucifer thought that he knew what pain was, but the detox proved him otherwise. The night when he thought he was dying was nothing compared to being locked away in the rehabilitation centre for nearly a year . T hose painful hours didn’t even begin to cover the  _ agony _ the withdrawls brought. 

 

Lucifer couldn’t tell what was worse, the crash or what came after. The first few days after the admission to the centre felt like the night when he was supposed to die got stuck on a loop. It was a blurry mixture of clammy skin, violently cramping stomach and white fire burning him from the inside. He couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t eat, he couldn’t think. All he could do was to cry and ask, to  _ beg _ for something, anything. Of course, he could very well talk to a wall and the effect would be the same. Once he suffered through this first couple of days, it got easier. It was still awfully hard to go about his day, but it was easier. Even when he became easily irritated and the smallest thing could trigger another rage attack and his head was filled with thoughts of  _ just one more pill _ , it was easier. 

 

The last two months or so were pretty much smooth sailing. Of course, Lucifer still felt the hunger deep down in his stomach, like an annoying bug biting his insides, but he could ignore it to a certain level. Another thing that made everything easier was the fact that once six months had passed, the visits were allowed. Gabriel’s voice over the phone was the only thing that truly prevented Lucifer from slipping into insanity when the hunger was particularly nasty. 

 

It was horrible.

 

Once  twelve months had passed, Lucifer was released from the centre, but his rehab was still far from finished. Even after completing the treatment, he still wasn’t allowed to live on his own, and Gabriel was kind enough to take him in despite the fact that he’d just moved in with Sam. Gabriel … was a mystery. Lucifer couldn’t comprehend what motives this man could possibly have to be so open and so willing to help the brother he hasn’t seen since he was a teenger. All those acts of kindness, even the smallest ones , proved over and over again that Gabriel  _ cared _ . But why? That is a question Lucifer was unable to answer.

 

He lived with Gabriel and Sam, constantly feeling like a third wheel for another year. Slowly , but surely, he adjusted himself to the new, clean life , the life he destroyed all those years before. Under Gabriel’s careful eye , he gained weight (perhaps even a little bit too much of it), signed up for a journalism course and his health significantly improved. It was still far, very far , from perfect . Lucifer was still depressed and he hardly could go a day without thinking about ending it all. But it was getting better.

 

He was getting better.

 

Soon enough, it was the time to move out. Still unemployed, but with Gabriel’s help, Lucifer was able to afford a small flat at the edges of the city. It took him nearly three months to finally find a job, but at least he made it. A small newspaper had some mercy for a poor ex-junkie and took him in. The salary was just enough for him to pay the rent and buy food, but although Gabriel’s help was no longer needed, the little brother didn’t step back. He kept Lucifer close even when his own life got mixed up when his twin boys were born. 

 

Knowing that Gabriel wouldn’t give up his persistent attempts of keeping an eye on him, Lucifer suggested a simple solution — he would call Gabriel every other day and come for a big family dinner every weekend. 

 

And  at this very moment, this is exactly where Lucifer is headed.

 

Gabriel lives with Sam and their two sons in a small house in the suburbs of the city, just a  twenty- minute bus drive and a quick walk away from Lucifer's flat. Those dinners can be a real pain in the ass during the cold months, so Lucifer is very grateful that this year , the fall is warm. It takes him just less than half an hour to get to Gabriel's house.

 

His heart feels heavy when he rings the bell at the front door. His hand wanders up to his glasses, sliding them up on his nose, fingertips feeling the little scars on his face. Lucifer has always loved Gabriel, even when they were apart from each other and he doubts that anything will ever change the way he feels about his little brother, but these dinners … They're an easy way of keeping Gabriel calm about Lucifer's well being, but it doesn't change the fact that they're a torture. 

 

They only show Lucifer how much he could have had if he didn't make so many mistakes. 

 

“Hey, Luci!” Gabriel greets him happily once he's pulled to door open. “Good to see ya,” he hums, pulling Lucifer into a hearty hug.

 

Lucifer returns the gesture, but he pulls back quickly. “You talk like you don't see me every weekend.” 

 

“Huh,” Gabriel huffs. “I just want to spend some quality time with my older brother. Where’s the fault in that?” he jokes, letting Lucifer to step into the entrance corridor, one of the walls covered with photos. There’s … a lot of them. There are pictures of Sam and Gabriel somewhere together, smiling into the camera like two love-drunk idiots they are. There are pictures of Dean and Castiel holding their tiny daughter. There’s even a photo of Lucifer and Gabriel together. It’s an old and slightly faded one, taken during Lucifer’s high school graduation. God, they were both so young and so full of hope.

 

Things have changed.

 

“Sammy’s putting the boys to bed, finally,” Gabriel hums when Lucifer kicks his shoes off and hangs his coat on the hanger. He doesn’t fail to notice the dark circles around his brother’s eyes. Well, it is no wonder . A fter all , the twins are teething now . I t doesn’t mean too well for their parents’ sleep. “He should be here in a moment. C’mon, I made chicken.”

 

Lucifer follows Gabriel into the kitchen. “Where are Dean and Castiel? They’re not coming?”

 

“Uhh, no, not today. They didn’t tell you?” Gabriel seems surprised. “They went off on a short vacation to some holiday house by a lake. Said they want lil’ Charlie to get some fresh air.” 

 

No. No, they didn’t. Even after so much has changed, Castiel still remains reluctant towards Lucifer , and Dean just openly shows his dislike. Not that Lucifer is really surprised . A fter all , he came back into Castiel’s life after  fifteen years of being absent, and not in the best shape. Nobody wants a junkie in their family, especially with little children around. Well, everyone except Gabriel, it seems. 

 

He slowly shakes his head, taking a bowl with some kind of a salad from Gabriel’s hands. “They … haven’t mentioned it.”

 

“Oh, well . Y ou know they’re a little crazy lately,” Gabriel hums as he squats by the oven and opens it up, a blow of hot air covering his glasses with a thin layer of steam. “With them opening another garage and all.” He grabs kitchen gloves and pulls out a heatproof dish with pieces of chicken inside. “Heard  ’ em murmuring something about a second child at some point, too.”

 

“Did you?” Lucifer asks flatly, reaching for utensils in one of the drawers. “They’re able to afford it, so good for them, I guess.”

 

Gabriel chuckles. “Yeah, but I think they’re gonna wait  ’ til Charlie is a wee bit bigger. Two little kids at once are a handful. Trust me, I would know.”

 

Lucifer bites back a snarky comment reminding Gabriel that his fianc é is almost still a kid, too. He just swallows it down and focuses on preparing the table for the dinner. The last thing he wants in this fragile life he’s trying to build up is to mess up his good relations with Gabriel and pointing out the  ten- year age gap between him and Sam wouldn’t do any good. They’re happy together, they’re engaged, they have two children. Lucifer is the very least - qualified person to say a word on the matter of having a healthy relationship with anyone or anything.

 

By the time they’re done with preparing everything, Lucifer hears footsteps on the stairs, and soon enough, Sam walks in. He looks even more tired than the last week, no doubt due to how often their sons wake up now. “Hey,” Sam rasps tiredly, shaking Lucifer’s hand. “Good to see you, Lucifer.”

 

“You, too, Sam,” Lucifer replies , and his words are honest. He grew to like Sam surprisingly quickly. He’s a good kid, and he makes Gabriel happy. Guess that’s all that matters. 

 

“All right, sit your asses down. The dinner’s ready,” Gabriel tells them after this short interaction and Lucifer can only be grateful for it. He successfully avoided questions about his well being, work and so on.

 

Sam and Lucifer take their seats by the dinner table while Gabriel puts a generous portion of mashed potatoes and pieces of chicken on their plates. He brings out a bottle of beer for himself and Lucifer, while Sam is content with just some water. They eat in silence for a long moment, Sam and Gabriel exchanging a few words only from time to time. Lucifer focuses on the food almost entirely . H e can't cook even half as well as Gabriel so , despite being forced to talk about himself, those dinners are a real treat. 

 

“Oh, and by the way, Luci,” Gabriel suddenly speaks up at some point, successfully knocking Lucifer out of the blissful state of being focused on the food. “I set you up on a date with a buddy of mine.” 

 

What?

 

Lucifer slowly raises his head from his plate, gaze shifting from perfectly cooked chicken to Gabriel's unbothered face. “You did what?”

 

“I set you up on a date,” Gabriel repeats like he didn't just announce that he completely lost his mind, his fork pointed at Lucifer. “You could use some company of someone who isn't me or Sammy. You'll have some fun.” 

 

“You and I have two very different definitions of fun,” Lucifer grunts, putting his utensils down. “Cancel it . I'm not going anywhere.” 

 

Gabriel crosses his arms on his chest. “Yes, you are going. Listen, Luci, you're thirty-seven, it's about goddamn time you found someone. When was even the last time you were on a date?” 

 

“I don't do dates,” Lucifer replies, but the words feel bitter on his tongue. He's speaking the truth, though. He doesn't go on dates, and he doesn't even remember if he's ever been on a date. Maybe before he got into drugs , when all the company he had were quick hookups in dirty apartments. But a date? A real date? No, that never really happened. Not even when he was in college. “Just cancel it.”

 

“Nope . N ot happening.” Gabriel takes a swing of his beer. “Cain is a nice guy, he-" 

 

“You're just giving me more and more reasons why I shouldn't go.” Lucifer rolls his eyes. His brother has lost his mind.

 

Sam shifts slightly in his chair. He usually doesn't intervene when a harsher conversation between the brothers arises, but Lucifer has a nasty feeling that in this very case, Sam is going to step in. 

 

Lucifer is right. “Listen,” Sam begins slowly, speaking in such a tone as if Lucifer was a wild animal he was trying to tame. “I know Cain . H e's a really nice guy. He gives lectures at the college I attended before the twins, and …” 

 

“You set me up with a fucking uni professor?!” Lucifer blurts out, his hands clenching on the table. Hunger isn't the only thing that hasn't passed since he left the rehab centre. Rage attacks  are something he still tries to control, which is one of the many reasons why Gabriel surprising him with a blind date is an absolutely horrible idea.

 

Gabriel looks at him sternly. “ _ Lucifer. _ ”

 

He settles back down on the chair. There's fire in his chest, but he can't let it burn now. He's worked too hard to get where he is now to just lose control over Gabriel being overprotective and overall  _ too good _ . 

 

Breathe in, breathe out.

 

“I don't want to go on a date with your colleague .  _ E _ _ specially  _ with your colleague.”

 

“Luci,” Gabriel's tone is gentle. “Please. Do it for me, al l  right? Cain is a great guy. I told him about you and he's interested. It's just one evening.” 

 

Lucifer guesses that he can manage one evening, for his brother’s sake.


	3. I I I

 

There are many reasons as to why this date is a horrible idea, and Lucifer wouldn’t have issues with naming at least  ten from the top of his head. One, he is and forever will be an ex-junkie – not exactly a dateable type. Two, the guy he’s supposed to go on a date with is a goddamn university professor , clearly out of Lucifer’s league. Three, despite being clean for two years, the little scars on Lucifer’s face where his skin had outbreaks from drugs will never disappear – he is bound to forever wear the mark of his past addiction. Four, he is not even very good looking and his personality is no better. Five, the shirt and suit jacket Gabriel forced him to buy for this occasion look ridiculous on him. 

 

Really, Lucifer could spend the whole day just looking for more and more excuses to cancel this whole thing, but something at the back of his head tells him that he would have to go, even if he was dying. After all the kindness Gabriel has given him, after accepting Lucifer and helping him through the worst of possible moments, he really does owe Gabriel at least as much as to do this simple thing for him. Besides, both Sam and Gabriel claimed that this Cain guy is really charming and a good company. An eye candy, too. Who knows, maybe Lucifer will even have fun tonight?

 

Doubtful.

 

He has to go no matter how hard dragging himself out of the bed on a Friday evening is. At least his day at work wasn’t particularly nasty – not that he’s even given any important or responsible tasks. After two months of working there , he still hasn’t earned his boss’ or coworkers’ trust . A s of now , he just mostly makes coffee, delivers messages and maybe sometimes helps with making sure that there are no typos in the text that goes into printing. Remarkable.

 

As he makes his way to the bathroom to take a quick shower before heading out, Lucifer cannot help but wonder what exactly is going to happen on this so-called date, or rather, just how disastrous it’s going to be. If Gabriel was here to hear Lucifer’s complainings, he would surely smack him across the back of his head and tell him to stop constantly putting himself down, but … Lucifer is thinking realistically. He’s not interesting, he doesn’t have any hobbies, he doesn’t have an exciting job, he doesn’t have friends and he can’t even flirt. He already feels sorry for this Cain guy.

 

Out of the shower, Lucifer quickly pulls his new clothes on and shoots himself a look in the mirror as he tires to manage his wild hair. Why was Gabriel the one blessed with perfect hair no matter what? After a moment of consideration, he decides to take his glasses instead of sweating over putting the contacts in. He won’t look good anyway, so why bother? Lucifer doesn’t feel even nearly ready for what’s about to come when the clock in his living room shows half past  six , announcing him that it’s the time to go. He has to catch a bus and then another one to get to the restaurant where  Gabriel told him to meet Cain. Lucifer and a restaurant.

 

Hilarious.

 

He thought that he had everything under control, really. Hell, he thought that he’s pretty much indifferent about this whole date idea, about the disaster it’s going to be. Of course, as always , life has to fuck him over. On his drive in the bus, Lucifer beings to feel unpleasant cramping in his stomach, as well as his heart speeding its rate, palms sweating. Oh, God. He’s nervous. By the time he reaches the last bus stop on his way, Lucifer is near having a full - blown panic attack. 

 

This is bad.

 

Breathing becomes more difficult, his vision slightly blurry and his mind focuses on nothing but finding possible routes of escape. His throat tightens as he barely even manages to press air though the ball of ice that somehow found its way into his throat, growing more and more with each gasp. _A panic attack lasts between_ _thirty_ _seconds to two minutes_ , he hears the voice of one of the therapists from the centre in his head. _Thirty seconds to two minutes. Then it goes away. You just have to get through two minutes_. Breathe in, breathe out. It’s fine. It’s  OK. It will go away even if his hands are trembling now and he feels dangerously close vomiting. Breathe in, breathe out. It will go away, it …

 

“Uhm, Lucifer …?”

 

God. No.

 

Lucifer hasn't even realised when he reached his destination — a small Italian restaurant he's never been  to, but only heard good things about. His heartbeat is gradually slowing down and the cloud of fear seeps away from his brain, leaving him with an uncomfortably clear mind to face his date.

 

The man standing in front of him is tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in some fancy-looking , dark purple suit with a matching blue tie. Lucifer’s attention quickly shifts from those way-too-fitting clothes up to the guy’s face. He’s … he’s fucking handsome. His eyes are blue and clear like the summer sky, quickly greying beard perfectly trimmed , dark hair with silver stripes in it combed back, falling down by the sides of his face in waves. 

 

Oh, no. He’s hot.

 

“Uhhh …” is the first sound that comes out of Lucifer’s mouth. Great. This is going great already.

 

Cain, because Lucifer is almost one  hundred- percent sure that this is Cain, raises his dark eyebrow in doubt, clearly thinking that he’s just made a mistake and mistook Lucifer for someone else. Fuck.

 

“Eh, th-that's me,” Lucifer finally breathes out. He did not expect the mysterious Cain to be  _ that _ good-looking. Lucifer already regrets choosing glasses instead of contact lenses.

 

“Oh, so I wasn’t mistaken.” Cain gives him a  _ really pretty _ smile and reaches out to shake Lucifer’s hand. “Your brother didn’t even want to show me your photo, he just told me to look for a ‘tall, blonde guy in ugly glasses.’” Cain tilts his head. “Not sure about the ‘ugly’ part, but the rest is pretty spot-on.”

 

Great, he’s smooth, too.

 

Lucifer forces an awkward chuckle. “Well, it’s still more information than he gave me on you … Listen, Cain.” He takes a deep breath. “I ... I’m sorry for my brother. I didn’t ask him to look for a date for me. He, he just …” Lucifer makes a vague gesture with his hand. “He just kind of forced me to come here.”

 

Cain looks at Lucifer with some sort of an amused smirk wandering somewhere at the very corners of his thin lips. There’s something strange about him, about how… how calm he seems. It’s almost eerie, Lucifer thinks . T his man acts and talks like he radiates pure quiet and stability. He’s Lucifer’s exact opposite. This doesn’t have the right to end well.

 

“That… that does sound like something Gabriel would do,” Cain admits. Lucifer doesn’t like how endlessly peaceful his eyes are. “But, well, we are here now, and we just happen to have a reservation. So how about we just make the most of this situation? How does that sound?”

 

This is exactly what Lucifer should have expected, isn’t it? Hoping that Cain would just agree to go home after bothering himself to get here and all dressed up in the first place was stupid. It seems like Lucifer doesn’t have a choice other than to just, well, have a date. A real one, with dinner and small talk and all of this. Really, the only thing missing is a bouquet of red roses. 

 

Lucifer is on a date.

 

He feels… awkward when he steps into the restaurant – an awfully nice restaurant – with Cain and they’re pointed towards the table that’s already been set and prepared for them, menus laying on top of the plates. They take their seats and Lucifer already doesn’t know what to do with his hands, or what to look at. This isn’t the kind of place he’s used to, or ever really been to. He was poor as a child, too busy as a young adult, too high as an adult and now he avoids any kind of social situations as best as he possibly can. He is very much  _ not _ comfortable right now. 

 

Cain, on the other hand… Cain seems relaxed, nonchalant even. He sends Lucifer a soft smile that could be as well encouraging before he grabs the menu and opens it, the leather of the cover cracking. 

 

“I take that you’ve never been here before?” he asks, tearing his impossibly blue eyes from the menu. 

 

“Uhm,” Lucifer stutters, again, before he manages to press out an answer. “Not… not really.” He breathes out. “How much exactly did Gabriel tell you about me?” he asks cautiously, fearing that Gabriel might have failed to mention Lucifer’s long addition to not-quite-legal substances. 

 

The man in front of him looks slightly amused. “Well, he told me that you’re thirty-seven,” Cain admits, “that you work for a small newspaper, that you can play the guitar, or at least used to, and that you left a rehabilitation centre over a year ago.”

 

_ Well, at least he knows _ , Lucifer thinks to himself. “And you’ve just decided that going out on a date with a junkie is such a great idea? You can’t possibly be  _ that _ desperate.”

 

There’s an unfairly attractive chuckle and another wide smile stretching under Cain’s dark moustache. “Desperate… I guess that’s one way to put it. Really, lonely though, that’s… that’s the word I would use.” He closes the menu and rests his hands on the table in front of him. “I’m guessing that Gabriel didn’t tell you anything about me?”

 

“Well, he told me that your name is Cain,” Lucifer admits, which earns him another chuckle from Cain’s side. It isn’t too terrible so far. “But no, not really. If I’m being honest with you, I don’t even know what I’m doing here. I don’t… do dates.” 

 

“Me either,” Cain tells him. “Well, at least not since I got divorced.”

 

“Divorced?” Lucifer echoes.

 

Cain nods. “Two years ago. Things weren’t exactly going too well between us. Neither of us was happy in that relationship, so we’ve decided that it would be the best for both of us to go  our  separate ways. I moved here, got a job at the same university as your brother and now , I’m on a date with an awfully nice gentleman, not a junkie.”

 

Fuck. He’s really smooth.

 

Lucifer coughs and reaches for a glass of water to hide his embarrassment. For a brief moment, he thought that something really good could come out of this date. He thought that he might have  a nice time. But with each passing second, he’s more and more convinced that he doesn’t fit here and it’s all just one big mistake. He’s going to disappoint all of this guy’s expectations, he’s sure of that.

 

“Your game is surprisingly on point for a uni prof,” Lucifer finally breathes out, feeling stinging heat somewhere in his ears. He is  _ not _ blushing. 

 

“I’m just stating how it looks from my perspective,” Cain hums, and before he speaks another word, the waitress walks up to them with an expectant look, a notepad and a pen already in her hands. “Ah, yes. I’d like a portion of ravioli, and a bottle of some good red wine, unless…” he gives Lucifer a questioning look.

 

It takes Lucifer full five seconds to realize that Cain is asking whether he drinks alcohol or not. “Uhh, yeah, wine is fine.” He didn’t even look through that menu. “And I’ll have the same.”

 

“Of course,” the waitress just says with a polite smile for the both, scribbling the order down in her notepad. She gives them a nod before trailing off to the next table, leaving Lucifer feeling even more embarrassed than before. 

 

Embarrassed? No, that’s not quite a good word to describe how he’s feeling. He’s not worried about what people could possibly think about him . H e’s learned to let go of this a long, very long, time ago when his survival depended on the leftovers found in trash cans. What Lucifer feels is more of… worry. This date isn’t quite about him, or about Cain in Lucifer’s mind. It’s about Gabriel, seemingly the only person left in existence Lucifer truly cares about. If this date doesn’t go well, he will disappoint Gabriel’s expectations and his hopes of making Lucifer a normal, functioning member of the society again. He just…

 

He doesn’t want to act like he doesn’t care about Gabriel’s actions.

 

Lucifer looks over to Cain, how calm and leaned back the guy seems. He’s nice – Lucifer can see himself actually enjoying the company. It doesn’t have to be bad.  _ It doesn’t have to be bad. _

 

“So, uhm, what do you teach?” Lucifer risks asking, taking another sip of water, this one much calmer. This is fine. He can do it. It’s just a date.

 

Cain gives him another smile and replies. 

 

The rest of the evening goes surprisingly well. Once Lucifer has gotten wine, it was easier to relax and let go of his worries, focusing on actually enjoying himself. Because that’s what this evening is supposed to be, isn’t it? Cain turns out to be more than Lucifer could ever hope for. He’s witty, charming and surprisingly interesting. They spend at least two hours in the restaurant just talking, exchanging various stories and anecdotes -- Cain about his work and the kind of issues he sometimes has with his students, and Lucifer repaying with telling about what a handful Gabriel was back as a child. 

 

It’s great. Lucifer really enjoys the evening and has fun with Cain, maybe he even attempts to flirt a little once he’s at his fourth glass. By the time they leave the restaurant, they’re both giggling at some stupid joke Cain said moments ago, holding hands like a pair of teenagers. They’re both slightly drunk on wine, just enough to feel the pleasant buzzing in their ears, but not enough to stumble over their feet or speak nonsense. They walk a few meters away from the restaurant, in the direction of the nearest bus stop, both with tears in their eyes from laughing. 

 

“That’s just great,” Lucifer hums, wiping his eyes dry, but there’s still a smirk on his lips.

 

Cain grins at him. “Well, what can I tell you? Being a professor can be entertaining sometimes.” 

 

“Oh, I can see that now, believe me,” Lucifer chuckles, his eyes trailing off to the bus timetable. He glances over at his old watch. There should be something going in his apartment’s direction in about two minutes. Well, this date was surely good when it lasted. Now it’s time to go back home, back to his grey, everyday life.

 

“I really had fun with you tonight,” Cain suddenly admits, after a moment of shared silence. “Is there any chance you’d like to do that again sometime?”

 

Lucifer looks at Cain with wide eyes, his mouth nearly falling agape. Did he have a good time? Yes, without a doubt. Lucifer doesn’t remember the last time he felt as good as during this evening. But he really,  _ truly _ didn’t expect Cain to be willing to actually see him again. Spending a nice time together is one thing, but the fact remains that Cain is out of Lucifer’s league. A charming, handsome university professor willing to date a miserable ex-junkie? This just doesn’t add up.

 

He is even more surprised when Lucifer finds himself smoothly answering, “Gladly.”

 

Cain’s smile only widens at that, his face illuminated by the front lights of the approaching bus. “Well, then,” he clears his throat, his alcohol-induced courage suddenly gone, leaving him adorably awkward. His eyes trail off to the bus. “Uhm, I guess I will ask Gabriel for your number and… I’ll call you soon?”

 

“Sounds great,” Lucifer agrees.

 

The bus stops, the doors open, a few people get out. It’s time to go home. Lucifer and Cain stand there for a brief moment, before Cain leans and presses a careful kiss to Lucifer’s cheek. “See you around,” Cain just says, turns around and quickly walks away into the night, leaving Lucifer with a beaming smile plastered to his face.

 

His heart is singing. 


	4. I V

Life can be good. 

 

Lucifer needed many years, his brother’s constant nagging and one History professor to understand it, but after all of that, he finally can see that life can still be good. It wasn’t until he started dating,  _ actually dating _ Cain before he realized that what was missing from his life was not a reason to get out of bed in the morning, but the  _ motivation _ to do so. Cain definitely was a motivation. And a great one. 

 

The more time has passed, the more Lucifer could see that there was just  _ something _ about Cain. About the genuine interested he showed, about the care he was trying to give along with all the comfort, kindness and little things that made Lucifer’s heart flutter in his chest as if he was still a teenager with a helpless crush on one of the peers. He would never admit it openly, not to himself, not to anyone else, but deep down Lucifer knew that what made him feel so warm and fuzzy in his chest whenever Cain smiled at him or sent a good morning text was the appreciation. Even if he felt like he didn’t quite deserve it, it was more than enough to motivate Lucifer to switch his life around.

 

He started off small, with getting up ten minutes earlier in the morning, which gave him just enough time to take a shower and eat a proper breakfast before heading to work. Then he gradually worked his way up, switching his habits more and more -- cleaning out his flat of empty beer bottles and trash, answering all the mail in his inbox and going grocery shopping more than once every two weeks when the shelves and the fridge were completely empty. 

 

Before he even knew it, he was also feeling better, and every new day didn't seem like a torture and a huge waste anymore. He picked up the guitar, a hobby he gave up nearly twenty years ago, and even signed up for another course to be able to find a better job. It wasn't  _ for  _ Cain nor  _ because of _ Cain, but at the same time, the man was the catalyst Lucifer needed before he could finally breathe again, or perhaps, for the first time in his entire life.

 

Life still can be good. 

 

All of these thoughts wander around Lucifer’s head as he makes his way through the apartment building where Cain lives, up to the fifth floor and then down the hall to the apartament number forty-two. His heart is fluttering in his chest like a caged bird flying around and chirping a joyous song. It’s been over three months, but Lucifer still can’t help but to feel like it’s their first date every time he goes to see Cain. He’s always equally nervous. 

 

However, every single, little hint of worry always disappears the very second Lucifer sees Cain with his stupidly perfect smile and shining blue eyes. 

 

“Luce,” Cain’s voice is warm and sweet like liquid honey when he pulls Lucifer into a welcoming hug, pecking a kiss to the side of his head. “It’s good to see you.”

 

Lucifer can’t help but savour the pleasant touch for a moment. He’d never realized just how starved for physical contact he was until he got Cain. “Uh-huh, you talk like you didn’t expect me here.” 

 

Cain just chuckles in his ridiculously sexy way and gives Lucifer a quick kiss. “I’m just happy that you’re here, and for longer than a few hours,” he hums.

 

“Huh, how could I not? You bribed me with pancakes for breakfast,” Lucifer jokes as he pulls away from the hug, his eyes wandering down to a white ball of fur sitting by his feet, meowing to get his attention. “Oh, and with your cat,” Lucifer adds, grabbing the pet from the ground and rubbing the fur in between her ears. 

 

“I still can’t believe that Abel loves you so much,” Cain sighs, shaking his head with disbelief. “She’s not friendly towards anyone but me, well, and you.”

 

With a smirk at the corners of his lips, Lucifer kicks his shoes off and walks further into the apartment, the purring cat still in his arms. Lucifer likes it here. It’s entirely different than his own place, but really, what about Lucifer and Cain isn’t different? The flat isn’t too big or too small, just the right size for one or two people to live in. The windows are wide and high, letting inside just enough sunshine to illuminate the kitchen connected with the living room. There’s a small couch standing on the soft carpet, right in front of a low coffee table and a big, flat-screen TV. Farther down the hall, after passing next to the nice bathroom is Cain’s bedroom. At least Lucifer thinks so . H e hasn’t been in there yet. 

 

He steps into the kitchen,  led there by a heavy, delicious smell permeating the air. He inhales deeply, looking curiously around the room, trying to localize the source of the scent. His eyes finally land on the oven, the light inside clearly indicating that there’s something baking there.

 

“Did you…” Lucifer turns his eyes at Cain, Abel in his arms meowing in protest at the sudden lack of attention. “Did you make pie?”

 

There’s that tiny, amused smirk again. “Well, you said that you would be already after dinner, and you know that I like to cook for you.”

 

“Christ, Cain,” Lucifer sighs with pretendent annoyance. “Don’t you think I’ve got enough cushion even without your baked goods?”

 

“Nah, I think you’re perfect the way you are,” Cain says nonchalantly, his focus shifting to the oven.

 

It starts beeping right at the moment Lucifer’s face feels hot, a blush blooming on his cheeks. His heart suddenly feels too big for his chest, or maybe it’s his ribs that have decided to suddenly wrap around his lungs to cut out his oxygen. Either way, he coughs with embarrassment and busies himself with stroking Abel’s white fur, a loud purr filling up the silence. 

 

Three months.

 

Lucifer has been dating Cain for three whole months yet whenever Cain says something like this — something so impossibly cheesy, yet so endlessly sweet — Lucifer’s insides just turn into hot, stinging mush. He likes it, of course he does. He likes the rush of serotonin Cain’s words give him, as well as the pleasant shiver accompanying it. It’s just... hard to take the praise, especially such a pure and honest one, when one thinks so little of himself. 

 

The steaming pie lands on the counter. “It has to cool down a bit before we can eat,” Cain murmurs, putting his kitchen gloves away. “Oh, and I wasn’t sure whether you’d prefer apple or cherry, so I made it a half-and-half.” 

 

“Oh, my…” Lucifer huffs a laugh. “You’re an impossible overachiever, you know that?” 

 

“Or maybe I just enjoy spoiling you. Tea?”

 

Another painful sting. “Yeah, sure.”

 

They sit in a silence for a few minutes. Abel crawls out of Lucifer's arms onto the table and lies down there, tucking her paws under her fluffy body, purring when Lucifer keeps stroking her back. Lucifer watches Cain move around the kitchen, preparing a tray for them to take to the living room and continue the show they started to watch together a month ago. It's oddly peaceful, sitting like this as the sun slowly sets behind the high windows, being wrapped in the smell of a freshly baked pie and the quiet humming of a dear person. Lucifer just wishes that Cain would pay attention to him in that moment. He can’t help it, whenever Cain isn’t giving him direct attention, Lucifer still feels unwanted, or like an intruder. 

 

Cain grabs the tray into his hands, his voice knocking Lucifer out of his train of thoughts. “Shall we?”

 

Lucifer blinks a few times, gazing up. “Oh. Uh, sure.” He gets up, throwing an expectant look at Abel, but the cat seems to be soundly sleeping already. Lucifer just sighs at that and follows Cain over to the living room. 

 

They settle down on the couch, just big enough for the both of them. Lucifer eases into the pillows, finally letting the stress of the week flow out. He has his shoulder pressed against Cain's, savouring the welcome touch as much as he can without actually showing how much more of it he craves. 

 

“Rough week?” Cain asks with genuine interest in his voice, his fingers wrapping around Lucifer’s hand, thumb gently stroking the back of it.

 

“Mh-hmm,” Lucifer mutters, enjoying the gesture. God, he can’t get enough of this man. “Been working there for six months and, you won’t believe, they finally want me to do some work.” 

 

Cain’s eyes widen. “You’re getting an article?”

 

“I’m getting an article,” Lucifer confirms. 

 

“Oh my God, Luce! That’s amazing!” Cain exclaims with excitement, pulling Lucifer into a kiss. “I’m so proud of you!” 

 

More stinging. It’s different this time, more gentle and soft, almost like tingling, making Lucifer’s chest feel fuzzy.

 

“Hey, calm down!” he chuckles as Cain preps his jaw with kisses. “It’s just a small article somewhere at the back of the paper. It’s nothing big.”

 

With a wide smile, Cain takes Lucifer’s hands into his own. “Nothing big? Just a week ago you were complaining to me that all you do at the agency is brew coffee and copy documents, and today you’re telling me that you’re going to write an article?” He caresses Lucifer’s scruffy cheek with his hand and gives him another quick kiss. “It’s fantastic.”

 

Lucifer snorts but his head fills up with pink clouds. “Uh-huh, and you’re hellishly cheesy, you know that?” He reaches for his mug with tea. It’s still steaming hot, but Lucifer just needs to busy himself with something or he will completely lose his mind around this wonderful,  _ wonderful _ man. 

 

“Excuse you, you love it when I’m cheesy,” Cain purrs, looking at Lucifer with those joyous sparkles in his summer-sky blue eyes. “Oh, and, Luce?”

 

“Yeah?” Lucifer reaches for a slice of the cherry pie. It looks delicious and it smells even better.

 

Cain shifts on the couch slightly. “Uhm, are you doing something next weekend?”

 

“Uh, just dinner at Gabriel’s, why?”

 

“You think you could skip it?”

 

The pie is delicious. The cherries are just the right amount of sour, the sweet and slightly crunchy pie perfectly compl e menting the taste. It nearly melts on Lucifer's tongue when he shoots Cain a surprised gaze. “Skip it? Why would I?” he wants to know. 

 

“Uhm, well, I… I have a small house two hours away from the town,” Cain explains slowly. “I keep my bees there. I have a tiny patch of orchard. It's a really pretty place. I thought you might want to go there with me.” 

 

Lucifer's eyebrows slowly elevate as a strange mixture of sudden panic and warm appreciation fills up his guts. The feeling is so contradictory that he can barely process it properly. He just stares at Cain out of wide, confused eyes with cold hands of fear slowly, very slowly, making their way up his spine. He can't tell the reason of this sudden crushing emotion, After all, he enjoys when Cain shows him affection, but the perspective of spending a weekend together is somehow different.

 

Perhaps it feels like a step in the relationship he has with Cain. So far they were just meeting once a week, talking via the phone sometimes and sending each other painfully cheesy texts. Neither of them really had time for something more than that and even this bit of attention Lucifer is already getting is somewhat overwhelming. No matter how much he craves affection, he's not sure whether he'd be able to handle the amount of responsibility it's tied to.

 

“Uhm…” Lucifer mutters, not quite sure what he should reply. 

 

“Luce, it's fine if you don't want to,” Cain assures him quickly, placing his hand on top of Lucifer's and Lucifer has a sudden urge to jerk it away. “I'm going there every weekend either way. I just thought that you might want to accompany me.” 

 

His tone is so, so sweet and his words are so honest. He means it.

 

“I'm just not sure, Cain,” Lucifer tells him. “I, I guess I should ask Gabriel. Since he's kinda responsible for me and all.” 

 

Cain nods his head. “I understand that. Will you tell me what he said?”

 

Lucifer swallows around the ball of ice that's suddenly found its way into his throat. “Yeah, sure.” 

 

Life is good. This is fine. He can manage. Cain cares. It's fine.

 

“Do you want to continue our show, then?” 

 

Lucifer just grabs his tea and sits comfortably, pressed against Cain's warm, stable body.

 

Everything is fine.


	5. V

It’s not fine.

 

As soon as the realization of what Cain’s proposition truly means settles in Lucifer’s brain, it almost instantly chases away the pink clouds of love-drunken haze away. Suddenly, Lucifer finds himself being slowly crushed by overwhelming panic, laying wide awake in Cain’s bed at two in the morning, his gaze locked on some spot on the ceiling as he tries to breathe. He can feel the weight and warmth of Cain’s body next to him, his breathing slow and steady in his sleep while Lucifer struggles with his own thoughts rapidly accelerating his heartbeat. 

 

Lucifer is not the one to express emotions, ever. If there’s the slightest chance that anyone,  _ anyone _ could notice what’s boiling under his skull, he wouldn’t let it show, ever. Even if it causes him physical pain to keep it all in, he won’t let it show. Over the course of the years, he’s learned that it’s best to bottle feelings up than to let them spill, staining everything and everyone around like ink, unable to  be removed. That’s why Lucifer kept all of his doubts in until Cain fell asleep, leaving Lucifer alone with his thoughts.

 

He likes Cain, he really does. Frankly, Cain must be one of, if not _the_ single, greatest thing that’s ever happened to Lucifer. However, he doesn’t like what he’s becoming. He doesn’t like being a miserable, lonely ex-junkie either, but this thing he’s having with Cain… it seems just too good. Movie nights? Dates out? Homemade pie? All of this seems simply _too good_ , too beautiful and way too fragile, like an intricate statue crafted out of glass so fine one could crush it under their fingertips. 

 

This is how this  _ relationship _ feels to Lucifer. 

 

Gabriel is always relaxed and cheerful around Sam, seemingly happier with his fiancé rather than without him. Meanwhile ,   Lucifer… well, he can’t deny how stressed he can get around Cain, or at the mere thought of meeting up with the man. It’s not that Lucifer doesn’t enjoy it. His time with Cain is always fantastic . H e’s simply scared of doing something wrong, that one wrong move could blow everything away like a house of cards. If only he could get rid of those, surprisingly rational, thoughts, maybe then he could genuinely enjoy his life with Cain. Who knows, maybe it would even stop causing him so much stress, maybe…

 

“Why are you up?” Cain’s voice is rough from sleeping. “It’s the middle of the night.”

 

Lucifer turns his head to the side, although he can’t see Cain in the dark  _ and _ without his glasses. “Sorry,” he mutters. “Woke you up?”

 

Cain grunts as he shifts on the bed, lazily wrapping one of his arms around Lucifer's middle, mindlessly caressing his naked side. “You're tossing around. Everything  OK ?”

 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Lucifer mutters when Cain shuffles closer, resting his chin on Lucifer’ s shoulder. “Just… dunno, I can’t sleep.” 

 

“Not tired enough?” Cain hums with a hint of amusement in his voice, pressing a sloppy kiss to Lucifer's shoulder. “C’me here.” 

 

Lucifer doesn't resist or complain about Cain being all too cheesy, he just lets the man pull him into a comfortable, tight hug, savouring the warmth of Cain's solid body against his own. It's surprisingly comforting and somewhat relaxing, to just  lie like that, with Cain's hand slowly rubbing circles on his back. Lucifer can't help but to melt into the touch, all of his worries fleeing from his mind.

 

“Cain?” He murmurs quietly, exhaustion already getting the best of him.

 

“Yeah?” 

 

“About that weekend… I'm gonna go with you.” 

 

In response, Cain murmurs quietly, clearly already falling back into a blissful slumber. Lucifer breathes out with strange ease, shifting in the bed ever so slightly so he can rest his head against Cain's chest. He smells like honey and old leather, a combination Lucifer grew fond of surprisingly fast. He closes his eyes and lets Cain's steady, slow heartbeat sing him to sleep. He falls asleep relaxed and carefree for the first time in a long time. 

 

That, of course, didn't last long.

 

Lucifer thought that he could let go of his past and fears, that he could devote himself to his relationship with Cain and let it better himself, that his life really could be not so terrible and miserable for once. That turns out to be simply untrue. The more Lucifer tires to invest himself and let Cain closer to him, the more stress and flat-out paranoia it causes him. The last months with Cain were so perfect that now, when the pink glasses of bliss are suddenly gone, Lucifer finds himself utterly overwhelmed and  _ so not ready. _

 

The more he thinks about it, the less sure of this thing he's having with Cain Lucifer becomes. He thought that his doubts and insecurities has vanished under the constant shower of Cain’s attention and validation, but as more time passes, he realizes that it isn’t true, and all those feelings were simply buried under a really thin ice. He was excited to go on the weekend with Cain at first, but the more the said weekend approached, the more uncertain Lucifer would become. Of course, in Gabriel’s opinion these plans are fantastic and he couldn’t be happier about it…

 

Lucifer is starved. He’s starved for love, and affection and validation, for all the things he’s been denied his entire life long. He thought that if he finally got it, he would be the happiest man alive, but the sudden burst of positivity in his life caused a reaction that’s entirely different. Panic, doubts, and above everything else, fear of abandonment. If Cain were to leave now, Lucifer would shatter into pieces and he would never gather himself back together again.

 

The weekend at Cain’s cabin is a… a strange experience, to say at the very least. Used to waking up alone and not really regaining consciousness until noon, Lucifer feels like he’s in some sort of an uncomfortably realistic dream as he gets to wake up next to a warm body and the smell of pancakes during those two days. He and Cain spend great moments together, taking a walk into the nearby woods, tending the bees, or just sitting on the porch with a book and a cup of tea, together. Cain is good to him.

 

Too good.

 

“Why the long face, Luce?” 

 

They are on the porch together, sitting comfortably cuddled under a blanket, each of them with a book in their hands, two mugs of steaming tea standing on the nearby low table. It’s slightly chilly after the rain that passed through a mere hour ago, but it’s just another excuse to sit so close to each other. 

 

Lucifer slightly turns under Cain’s arm, looking up at him. “What do you mean?”

 

Cain’s careful hand wanders into Lucifer’s hair, brushing through it gently. “I don’t know, you seem… kind of down. If you don’t like it here, I can just drive you back home, it’s really not a…”

 

“Cain,” Lucifer cuts him off quickly, harsher than he originally intended. “Don’t. You’re doing it again.”

 

“Doing what?”

 

“Overthinking.” The pot calls the kettle black. “I like it here, all right?” He slumps back against the pillows, trying to find the last paragraph he was reading. “So stop worrying.”

 

He can hear Cain chuckle softly. OK, OK. You’re right, I’m sorry. I just want to make sure that you’re comfortable, that’s all. You…” there’s a moment of agonizing silence. “You seem distant sometimes, you know? I always worry that I’ve done something wrong when you just get quiet like that, act like you don’t want me to touch you or even talk to you.”

 

These words make Lucifer’s heart sting painfully, no matter how innocent the statement was. He’s more than aware of what he’s doing, letting Cain close only to shut him off moments later. He can’t help it, it’s the defense mechanism Lucifer developed when he was a child, knowing all too well that opening up to someone makes you vulnerable – gives the other person access to the deepest and darkest corners of your mind and soul and you can never know whether they will decide to mess you up from the inside or not. No matter how much Lucifer craves and loves all the attention and warmth he gets from Cain, he’s still too scared to let his guard down.

 

Lucifer bites on his lip. “Sorry, Cain,” he mutters and he really means it. “I just… I don’t know, I just get like that sometimes when I’m thinking.” It’s not a lie. He’s simply not telling what it is exactly that he’s thinking about. “You don’t have to worry about that, all right? Next time just smack me or something like that,” he adds jokingly.

 

Cain looks unsure for a few more moments, but then he just presses a kiss to Lucifer’s hair. “If you say so,  _ Love _ .”

 

Upon returning home, Lucifer’s head only became a bigger mess.

 

He finds himself in this strange, familiar kind of haze when he’s endlessly torn between two completely contradictory feelings and he’s unable to form a coherent thought -- a feeling he remembers very well from being on drugs. Just that this time, instead of pondering whether he should snort another line or pop a few more pills, Lucifer is thinking about Cain. 

 

His,  _ his _ beautiful, wonderful, caring, sweet and charming Cain. His Cain who’s interested in what Lucifer has to say. His Cain who calls him and texts him, assuring him every day about his feelings. His Cain who gives Lucifer the attention he’s been craving for as long as he has lived. His Cain who’s giving him everything Lucifer has always needed.

 

Lucifer shouldn’t feel the need to push him back.

 

The more Lucifer becomes attached to Cain, the more it feels like he’s losing control over his life this fragile, carefully crafted control he’s been building up since the day he woke up in the hospital with Gabriel sobbing next to his bed. As much as Lucifer was dependent on drugs before, now he is dependent only on his own self. Or rather, he was until Cain appeared in his life, giving him all the pieces his life has been missing, yet… at the same time, Cain makes Lucifer feel like he’s taking bits of this control away, like Lucifer is giving someone else control over himself.

 

Maybe these are just paranoid thoughts of an ex-junkie who is spontaneously met with a sudden wave of hunger, knowing all too well that one line of white powder would make all his worries go away and he would be free to enjoy his new life, one where he has a family, a job and a partner. That’s what his life is now, isn’t it? He meets Gabriel every weekend, he works five days a week doing something he truly enjoys and wants to better himself with, and on top of all those beautiful things, he also has someone who cares about him deeply. 

 

Yet, despite all of that, after spending a blissful weekend with Cain, and then another and another one, it happens more and more often that Lucifer finds himself wide awake at night, staring at the cracks in the ceiling above him, thinking. He is easily the safest he’s ever been in his life, he’s got more than ever before and he should feel nothing but joy at what direction his life has turned to.

 

_ I’m safe. _

 

He repeats this to himself like a mantra whenever the doubts set in, fear stinging the back of his brain with cold needles, sending shivers down his spine. He’s free, more free than he could ever dream of being, but at the same time  he feels caged and trapped, without a direction or a chance, and frankly also without a  _ reason _ to run away from all of this.

 

_ I’m safe, I’m safe, I’m safe. _

 

He doesn’t feel safe.

 

It doesn’t take much longer before Lucifer walks home with  a tiny foil packet filled with white powder.


	6. V I

Every addict makes the same mistake. They think that taking the substance they are so dependent on will bring them relief. Nobody takes drugs just to have fun, not after a certain point. Those who stick to a substance really do believe that it will help them resolve their problems, or at the very least let them escape from them. They are so desperate for a way out of their messed up thoughts and lives that they are willing to put absolutely everything on the scale, just to be able to get another fix. The longer they stay away from their addictions, the better the memory of the haze seems.

 

But the memories are very often distorted.

 

The first line Lucifer snorts after two years of being clean already feels like a mistake. It’s nothing like he has remembered. There is no sudden burst of euphory, his senses aren’t heightened and the worries of his everyday life are still here. He knows he could still go back, he could just grab the rest of the packet, flush it down the toilet and never think about it again. Then the memory of Cain’s warm smile and caring hands flash through his memory and his stomach drops down to the ground.

 

No, no, no. 

 

This is wrong, this is so wrong. He can’t have Cain, He doesn’t deserve him. He’s a shell of a human, a complete wreck kept afloat by feelings of a madman. Lucifer knows he would never, ever bring himself to rip away from all the comfort Cain provides him, but he can’t, he just can’t let this man stay with him. It’s bad enough that Lucifer is dragging Gabriel down already. Cain doesn’t deserve the same faith. He can’t be hurt. Lucifer won’t hurt him. He loves Cain too much. 

 

The second line works. The dark mess doesn’t become untangled, but at least it shines with bright, colourful lights and floats slowly somewhere below the surface of Lucifer’s awareness when he shuffles around his flat, enjoying the brief moments of freedom. 

 

He forgot that after every high, there also has to be a plunge.

 

“Luce? Love, are you okay?” 

 

Lucifer slowly raises his head from above his nearly untouched dinner. He’s been trying to force himself to eat, just for the sake of this date, but his stomach is way too tight for food. He feels a completely different kind of hunger. If he doesn’t stop with the drugs now, it will soon begin to show. It’s been three weeks and nobody has noticed a thing yet, but the very second Lucifer becomes aggressive or jittery again, or he loses weight, they will know. And he can’t have that.

 

He decides to just breathe slowly and run his fingers through his hair. “Yeah,” he replies, his voice strangely rough. “I’m just not hungry.”

 

Concern is immediately apparent on Cain’s face. “Not hungry?” he repeats. “You barely touched your food. Are you sure you feel alright?” His hand wanders to Lucifer’s, stroking it gently. God, this man is too sweet. 

 

“Cain,” Lucifer utters. “Please. I'm fine. I'm a just a bit tired, alright?’ 

 

“I'm being overprotective again, huh?” 

 

“Very.”

 

Cain snorts. “Alright, understood.” He takes Lucifer's hand into his own and presses a kiss to the back of it. “Then how about we go back to your place? You could use a nap if you're tired. And I wouldn't mind staying overnight, you know?” 

 

There's the familiar tingling somewhere in Lucifer's ears and cheeks - not quite embarrassment, but pretty close to it. It's one of those moments when he doesn't quite know how to properly respond to the affection Cain is showing him, especially now, with Lucifer's dirty not-so-little secret. Oh, dear Jesus, he's going to destroy all of it.

 

Lucifer just nods his head, Cain already waving at the nearby waitress to bring them the check for the unfinished meal. 

 

Once the payment is done, Lucifer and Cain leave the restaurant, holding hands as they usually do. Lucifer should feel flattered that Cain isn't ashamed of showing their relationship in public, and he probably would have been, if it wasn't for the sucking in his belly and itching on his skin. He's careful, he's not using much - just enough to be less anxious and relax from time to time. 

 

Just enough to be on hunger. 

 

The weather is nice, or rather, it  _ should _ be nice. The sun is shining but way too brightly, the birds are chirping but way too loudly, the flowers are blooming but they're way too colourful. This is awful. Lucifer is awful. He made a horrible, horrible mistake agreeing on a date whole it's been nearly four days since his last fix. 

 

No.

 

No, that's not the case. He shouldn't be on hunger in the first place, he shouldn't be using again. Everything seemed to be working so, so well…

 

“Cain?” 

 

Lucifer's head jerks up when he unexpectedly hears a female voice right behind him. Both of them, Cain and he, turn their heads around, their eyebrows elevated in surprise. 

 

There's a woman standing up from her seat in front of café, making their way over to them. She's pretty, Lucifer doesn't have the faintest shade of doubt about that. Tall, slim, with dark wavy hair falling to her shoulders and bright eyes. She's wearing a nicely tailored jacket with a white, fitting shirt, her lips painted with a red lipstick. She looks like a true businesswoman, and a notebook and a laptop standing on her table only strengthen this impression.

 

“Colette?” 

 

Oh. God. No.

 

What are the odds of them running into Cain's ex-wife? 

 

“Cain!” Colette grins widely as she approaches them, arms spreading to grab Cain in a welcoming hug. “It's so good to see you!” 

 

Cain gives her a crooked smile, clearly more than uncomfortable with this greeting. “Uh, it's good to see you, too,” he mutters, rubbing his neck. “What… are you doing here? I thought you still live in Missouri?” 

 

“Oh, I do!” Collette replies smoothly. Did Lucifer just become invisible? Can those two see him? “I'm here on business, you know how my job is. And, honestly? I was kind of hoping I could meet you here.” 

 

She did not. 

 

“Really?” Cain squinches his eyes suspiciously. 

 

“Of course! It's been a while since we've talked. I thought we could see each other some time, catch up on things.” 

 

She did.

 

There's a few seconds of silence, during which there's an entire parade of emotions burning up and down behind his eyes. “Oh,” he finally presses out, his attention shifting to Lucifer,  _ finally _ . He wraps his arm around Lucifer's waist,pulling him closer. “Sorry, Love. Collette, this is Lucifer. He's my boyfriend.” 

 

Colette’s eyelid doesn’t even twitch, but there’s a pause before she speaks again, and her smile seems to dim down, although it doesn’t seem like Cain has noticed those two tiny, tiny but oh so hurtful details. 

 

“Oh, hello,” Collettes then says, reaching to shake Lucifer’s hand. “It’s pleasure to meet you. Lucifer is quite an usual name.”

 

“Yeah, so is Cain,” Lucifer tells her, unable to keep himself away from being snarky. As much as he had doubts about his relationship with Cain before, now he just wants to wrap himself around the man and pull him away from Colette as far and as quick as possible. He doesn’t like the fact that she’s here, that she’s so friendly and definitely not that she’s so pretty. Cain never spoke about his ex-wife soon, but the more he looks at her, the more Lucifer wonders why those two split. Colette surely must be crazy to let such a wonderful man go. 

 

Cain snickers at that, his hand squeezing Lucifer’s side a little. “I guess it means we fit well, huh?” His eyes are shining. “Well, we’ll be going now. It was nice seeing you here, Colette.”

 

The woman nods her head, tucking a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. “It really was. I hope I’ll see you again before I head back to Missouri. You didn’t change your phone number, did you?”

 

“Uh, no.” Cain looks at his watch, and Lucifer knows that he’s just bluffing. “Time to go. See you around.” he gives his ex-wife a final smile before he pulls Lucifer away from her, walking at a slightly faster pace than he usually does. 

 

It isn’t until after they turn around a corner when Lucifer risks asking: “So that was Colette, huh?” He really hopes he doesn’t sound salty. He knows that Cain in no way could every predict that his ex would be here, but he just can’t help feeling somewhat threatened. Colette seems much more suitable for Cain than a chubby ex-junkie who is, oh right, using again, without his boyfriend’s knowledge. 

 

“I’m sorry about that, Luce,” Cain just sighs, letting go of Lucifer’s waist and reaching for his hand instead. “I had no idea she would be here—as I said, she lives in Missouri, still. God, that was awkward.”

 

“Why? You ashamed of me?” Lucifer strums half-seriously, although as soon as those words leave his mouth, he already tastes the bitterness on his tongue. He’s not sure whether that was a joke or not. The sting in his heart tells him that it wasn’t.

 

Cain gives him a sour look. “Don’t say that, Luce. You know I love you, that’s not the case.”

 

Whatever was the rest of the words Cain uttered after that, none of them made it through into Lucifer’s head. Three words, three little words and they are more than enough to expand Lucifer’s heart to the point it’s pressing uncomfortably against his ribs, threatening to blow it up, for his lungs to suddenly deflate and his head to entirely fill up with pink clouds. Seeing someone is one thing, but hearing a confession of love is different. It doesn’t even seem like Cain has realized he said it out loud for the first time, just keeping on ranting about Colette while Lucifer just looks at him out of big eyes.

 

“Me too.”

 

“Pardon?” Cain turns his head towards Lucifer when they stop by a street crossing, waiting for the light to turn green. 

 

Lucifer’s licks over his chapped lips, unsure whether his voice is going to break. “I love you too.” 

 

There’s a moment of silence, but then Cain gives Lucifer a quick kiss. “I know,” he just whispers, tugging at Lucifer’s arm. “C’mon, let’s go home.” 

 

As bad as this day might have started, now Lucifer feels much better. His heart still feels way too large for his chest, but it’s surprisingly enjoyable. So enjoyable, in fact, that for a few brief moments, he completely forgets about all of those things he was trying to bury in drugs just a few days ago. Perhaps this is all Lucifer needed. Perhaps he just needed Cain to show,  _ to prove _ to him, that he really does care about him in front of someone else. Colette is, without a doubt, a very beautiful and confident woman, and Cain just put her down like this for  _ him,  _ for  _ Lucifer _ . 

 

All of that,  _ and  _ he admitted, out loud, that he does love Lucifer, that this isn’t just a temporary thing for him, that he really does care, and cares more than most of the people in Lucifer’s life ever did about him, his own family included. 

 

Maybe now it will all be well.

 

“You don’t have to be jealous, by the way,” Cain tells him suddenly when Lucifer unlocks the door to his tiny apartment, the rays of the setting sun shining lazily through the narrow windows. It’s a good thing this place has been cleaned just a few days ago.

 

Lucifer steps inside, giving Cain a surprised look over his shoulder. “Huh? What are you talking about?”

 

“Colette,” Cain explains. He closes the door behind himself and steps closer to Lucifer to wrap his arms around his boyfriend. “I saw that look on your face, and I’m telling you, you don’t have to worry. She doesn’t mean anything to me anymore, and no, I’m not going to see her again.”

 

“How did you…?” Lucifer starts before he bites his tongue. Shit. Of course Cain would have guessed every single thing that’s been on Lucifer’s mind for the past thirty minutes. That damn, perfect man. 

 

Cain just chuckles, pulling Lucifer into a tight hug. “Because I know you, Luce. So don’t worry, alright?”

 

Lucifer doesn’t.

 

Cain stays at his place overnight, just as he promised, and so there is no time for Lucifer to think about his worries between watching their show and ignoring their show in the background while they’re focused on each other. So much care and attention turns out to be exactly what Lucifer needed to calm the raging storm in his head, even if for a few brief moments. Sleeping with his ear pressed to Cain’s chest, listening to the man’s steady heartbeat also helped with the insomnia that’s been bothering him for the past month. 

 

It’s good. It’s great, even. Lucifer feels wonderful and Cain seems to be happy, too. It appears as if Lucifer was wrong about himself and he’s not a poison to the amazing being Cain is. Of course, the problem here was Lucifer all along, but not him as a person, rather the way he was thinking about himself, prohibiting himself from believing that someone could really love him for just the person he is. 

 

He can do it. He can have his very own picket fence, apple pie life with Cain. He can be happy with the man, he can enjoy their weekends together and dates in different restaurants, he can be better and accept himself and, yes, he can throw the drugs away and never reach for them again. Who knows? Maybe he can even have a family with Cain, something Lucifer has always wanted but thought it was always beyond his reach. It isn’t.

 

Or at least, so he thought until Cain wakes him up, shaking his shoulder vigorously. Even without his glasses, Lucifer can see the hurt look on Cain’s face.

 

“Lucifer!” Cain’s voice is uncharacteristically harsh. “What, in the hell, is this?!”

 

He’s holding a tiny foil packet filled with white powder. 


	7. V I I

It feels like the time has stopped. Lucifer honestly thought that this phrase only appears in bad novels and mediocre Hollywood movies–at least up until that moment. Looking up at the blurry stain that is supposed to be Cain’s face, it really does feel like the clocks stopped ticking and his own heart ceased its valiant efforts to pump blood through his system. Neither of them says a word, instead they are just looking at each other while the air around them thickens and tenses with anticipation.

 

This can’t be happening.

 

“Cain…” Lucifer tries to speak, his hand blindly searching for his glasses already, knowing that this isn’t going to end pretty.

 

“No.” He has never heard Cain speak in such a manner before, not in this cold way stripped off emotions, firm and hard like steel. “Don’t. Tell me how long.”

 

Lucifer puts his glasses on and immediately regrets this decisions, Cain’s face coming into focus with such an expression that Lucifer’s stomach sinks in and drops to the ground while his heart raises up, clogging his throat and airways. No. No, no, no, no, no. This is wrong, this is  _ so  _ wrong. 

 

Cain’s jaws clench. “Lucifer,” he says once again, and this alone pushes as set of sharp blades through Lucifer’s insides. Cain never uses Lucifer’s full name, ever. It’s always Luce, or honey, or love, but never  _ Lucifer _ . “Answer me. How long have you been using?”

 

“Three weeks,” Lucifer rasps out, the words barely making it past his dry lips. He could have lied, he could have told Cain that he’s just bought it and hasn’t used yet, but really, what would be the point of that? He can’t just look the man he loves so much in the eyes and flat out lie to him about something so important, something that’s probably going to destroy what they have been building together for the past months – exactly according to the plan.

 

The only issue is that Lucifer doesn’t want to follow this plan anymore. 

 

Another question comes: “Why?” 

 

This one is much harder to explain. Even if it was given that Lucifer would be insane enough to just tell Cain what’s been boiling up in his head since the beginning of their relationship, there is not half a chance that he would ever be able to articulate it, to say it out loud while looking into those beautiful eyes. They are the same colour as the sky above their cottage the last time they went there for the weekend, as always curled up on the couch on the front porch, reading books and just enjoying each other’s closeness. 

 

It’s all going to go to hell now.

 

When only silence and a single, broken “I” comes out of Lucifer’s mouth, it seems like Cain has had enough of waiting. He throws the packet of cocaine to the ground and just turns around to leave. He’s already dressed up and, somehow, Lucifer doesn’t doubt that he was going to go out and bring them some breakfast to enjoy in the late morning sun filling the bedroom.

 

“No! Cain!” Lucifer calls out after him, frantically searching for his clothes he tossed somewhere the previous night. “Wait!” 

 

There is no response. By the time Lucifer finally finds his jeans and pulls them on, Cain is already grabbing his jacket from the chair in the kitchen, stuffing his wallet and keys into his pockets, not even giving Lucifer a single look.

 

“Cain, please!” Lucifer grabs his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Don’t go, I–”

 

“You can explain?” Cain’s head turns towards Lucifer. “Can you? Then, by all means, please do. Explain to me why you’re on drugs, after, what, two years of being clean. Explain to me why you’re doing this behind my back. Explain to me why you never said that you need help!” 

 

“I just– this… this is not what you think…”

 

Cain shrugs the hand off of his shoulder, now fully facing Lucifer. All the rage and hurt that were so present and prominent in his posture and expression just mere seconds ago now all melt away, giving way too much space for simple worry and fear. “Then what is it?” Cain wants to know, his hand travelling up to Lucifer’s face, his hands way too gentle on rough cheeks. “Why didn’t you tell me you needed help, Luce? You know how much I love you, I’d do anything to help you.”

 

The word that leaves Lucifer’s mouth is pathetically weak: “Why?”

 

“What?” Cain blinks. “What do you mean, why?”

 

Lucifer takes a step back, away from the comforting warmth of Cain’s body. “Why do you love me?”

 

“Luce, what are you talking about?” There’s that concern in Cain’s voice again. 

 

“ _ Why  _ do you love me? There is  _ nothing _ anyone could  _ ever  _ love me for! And you… God, you’re still here! You take care of me, you spend time with me, you’re so awfully  _ good _ to me, but why? Why?! What could you possibly love me for?!”

 

There’s a few agonizingly long moments of silence, Cain’s eyes opening up wide, looking at Lucifer with utter disbelief. “Did…” he stutters slowly, his voice trembling nearly as much as Lucifer’s body. “Did you start using because of me?”

Once again, there’s only quiet to reply, but this time, it speaks more than words ever could. Cain just takes a deep, shaking breath before grabbing his keys from the table, not giving Lucifer another look.

 

It isn’t until after the door falls shut when Lucifer starts crying.

 

The crash after the months of bliss is harder than expected. His life before Cain was difficult, but now, once he got to know what being loved feels like, returning to the lonely, miserable life is worse than ever before. Back when Cain was still with him, Lucifer thought that he could do just fine without the man, without his loving looks and caring touches. 

 

He was wrong.

 

During the hours following their breakup, Lucifer found himself in an endless cycle of crying until his lungs and eyes hurt and laying on the ground completely numb, the memories of that disastrous conversation playing in his head on a loop. Being awoken from his slumber, Cain’s cold voice, the sudden change into hurt and care, the immense pain on his face and finally the door slamming shut. Over and over and over again.

 

Lucifer doesn’t remember the last time, given that there even was one, he cried as much as the day when Cain just left. He felt so, so weak and so overwhelmed by the breathtaking pain aching in every fiber of his body that he collapsed right where he was standing, in the middle of his kitchen. He just curled up on the cold floor, hugging his knees to his chest as violent sobs shook his body. Once he’s cried all the tears he had, he lied there, quiet, trying to catch his breath before another recording of that day’s events played itself in his head, causing another wave of grief to crash through him.

 

He did it. He really did it. He drove Cain away from him, he got  _ exactly _ what he wanted. Then why, oh why, did it hurt so much? He wanted this because Cain deserved better, he wanted it because Lucifer wasn’t good enough, he wanted it because he thought it would be the best solution for the both of them, especially given the contradictory nature of Lucifer’s personality. No matter how much he craved affection and attention, he could just turn it down due to his own insecurities and he thought it would only keep hurting Cain and it would bring neither of them any benefits.

 

He didn’t consider the possibility of Cain truly loving him.

 

Gabriel has realized that something was wrong the very same weekend, most likely due to Lucifer not showing up for their weekly family dinner or answering the calls. The door still wasn’t locked by the time Gabriel got there, since Lucifer only moved himself from the floor to the bed, without energy to do anything else. Besides snorting a line, of course.

 

This bit of white powder was what convinced Cain to go away and not come back—Lucifer should hate it and throw it away but he couldn’t. Even if he knew that cocaine was exactly the reason of why he felt so miserable, he couldn’t get rid of it, not when it was the last thing that could keep him breathing when the emotional pain was crushing his ribs and turning his insides into mush. 

 

Surprisingly enough, Gabriel didn’t notice. He didn’t notice that his ex-junkie—present junkie—brother was using again. Reddened eyes and nostrils, as well as inability to focus on anything and shortness of breath were all assigned to the breakup. Gabriel didn’t ask too many questions, clearly seeing that Lucifer was in no condition to speak. He just helped his brother with changing clothes, making sure to eat at least a little bit and putting him down to bed, where Lucifer just passed out. When he woke up, Gabriel was already gone.

 

Lucifer didn’t show up in work for the next two weeks, using all of his days off at once. He was nowhere near capable of working, constantly shuttling between being high out of his mind and unconscious when the exhaustion took over. That was it. That was the end of the long—too long—path Lucifer put himself onto. To any other person, it might have looked like major exaggerating—an adult man completely losing his mind and giving into an old addiction due to a breakup. They wouldn’t understand. 

 

They wouldn’t understand that Cain was the last anchor keeping Lucifer alive and functioning and sane, and as soon as he disappeared, so did all the reasons to keep going. 

 

Suddenly, there was no reason  _ not to  _ start using again. Since everything is going to hell anyway, why not sniff one more line than before? Since he’s alone again, and there’s nobody he could hurt it with, why not pop a few more pills? Since it all doesn’t matter, why not get more high than ever before? 

 

Mixing drugs is never a good idea, and washing it down with beer is downright suicidal, but that evening, Lucifer very much did not care. This time, his motives for getting high were entirely different than all of those years ago, when it first started in his tiny apartament in Wyoming. Then it was just for fun, to find some relief from the everyday stress, from his shitty job and from his awful lectures and from the amount of material he had to remember and from all the homework he had to do. He was young them, just looking for something that would make his life easier and what, eventually, turned into something much more dangerous.

 

Tonight is different. Tonight Lucifer just wants to forget, he wants to numb down the pain devouring him from the inside for the past two weeks, he wants to erase Cain’s face and the touch of his hands from his memory and finally make all of it  _ stop _ . He’s been hurting for so, so long, that he finds himself desperate enough to try anything,  _ anything _ to just make it go away. Sadly, this is not the kind of pain he could just quiet down with a shot or two of morphine or a box of painkillers. 

 

So he tries something else. He tries everything at once. 

 

All of the white powder he bought over the course of the past two days finds itself gathered into neat, thin lines on Lucifer’s coffee table, standing out from the black paint like galaxies on the endless canvas of the universe. A syringe filled with morphine here, a few boxes of pills there, a bottle of beer on the ground, and Metallica’s old classics playing in the background is all Lucifer needs that evening. He made sure to tell Gabriel not to bother him tonight, to just leave him alone and let him be. He lied—something he never does—telling his little brother that he was feeling better than ever and all he needed was one evening to gather himself together so he can go back to work on Monday. 

 

Just one evening to get really,  _ really _ high. 

 

It isn’t until after the third line and the first box when he notices his heart beating irregularly, struggling to spread the drug-stained blood throughout his body, but he doesn’t stop. One shot and another line later, he already has difficulties breathing and concentrating on taking more pills out of their boxes. His head is pounding and his hands are shaking, but he keeps taking. He knows what he’s doing.

 

He’s killing himself.


	8. V I I I

_ Beep… beep… beep… _

 

He has been here before. It's all familiar —harsh white lights, nose-biting sterile smell and stiffness of the mattress underneath, and the pain. Pain spreading through his body with every beat of his heart and every breath his lung struggle to get. The pounding in his head makes it nearly impossible to think, all thoughts disappearing but one. He has been here before. Lucifer doesn't even have to reach for his glasses to know that he's in a hospital room, all the machinery monitoring his vitals humming and beeping above his head, wires and tubes connecting him either to this or to the drip undoubtedly standing nearby. 

 

Here he is again, in the hospital, after yet another overdose failed to kill him. He doesn't even have enough energy to ponder over what he's going to hear once anyone notices that he's awake—it will be most likely exactly what he's heard a year before. Gabriel must have been notified by now, and must be angry. It all would have been easier if Lucifer could just go. He doesn't want to die, but there is no point for him to keep living.

 

“Luce?” 

 

Lucifer's aching body stiffens at the sound of the familiar voice. This isn't Gabriel. In a matter of a second, there's already a face in his field of vision, a pale face surrounded by dark but greying hair. 

 

“Luce!” Cain's gentle hand quickly finds its way to Lucifer's cheek, thumb stroking over the cheekbone. “Oh, my God, we were so worried about you! You're lucky Gabriel came around in time!” 

 

There's some suffocating, overwhelming feeling swelling inside Lucifer's chest, something strong enough to make the machine registering his heartbeat beep quicker. Although without his glasses he can't tell what kind of expression presents itself on Cain's features, somehow he doesn't doubt that it's the one of worry and concern—he can tell it just by the sound of Cain's voice.

 

The man turns his head up, probably looking up to the screen of the electrocardiogram. “Shh,” Cain hums soothingly. “It's okay now, Luce. I… I'm so,  _ so _ sorry that I left you.” 

 

“What?” Lucifer rasps out with surprise. His tongue feels like a piece of leather at the bottom of his dried out mouth. “What are you…?” his words drown in a sudden attack of coughing.

 

In a second, there's already a cup with a straw in front of him. It takes him a ridiculous amount of effort to raise his head up enough so he can catch the straw in between his cracking lips. Plain water tastes like the sweetest thing he's ever tasted, cooling down his aching throat. Once he's had enough, he rests his head back on the pillow, exhausted just from this simple action. 

 

Cain shuffles by the bed, finally sitting down on the bed Lucifer's side. “How are you feeling?” 

 

“Awful,” Lucifer croaks back, letting his eyes fall shut. There lights are way too bright for him.

 

“Luce,” Cain's voice is rough as always but it has strange softness to it, like the fur of an old teddy bear. “I… I can't even ask you for forgiveness, I know. But… I want you to know that I am so, so sorry for what I've done. I shouldn't have just left you and cut you out like that, you didn't deserve that. I was angry I—”

 

Lucifer shifts his head so he can look at Cain's smudged silhouette. “What the hell are you babbling about?” 

 

There's a moment of silence, disturbed only by the beeping and humming of the monitoring machines. “I…” Cain begins awkwardly. “I thought you hate me.” 

 

“Wait, what?” 

 

“I, I thought I wasn't good enough for you. I thought I did something to you, that I somehow hurt you enough to start using again, and…” Cain swallows down audibly. “I thought you didn't want to see me again.” 

 

The fire of guilt goes through Lucifer's veins at that, burning him up from the inside. “No,” he nearly whines  frustration taking over, unclogging some dam deep inside his brain. “That's not the point, Christ! You're just too good for me, alright? I thought I was gonna drag you down and destroy you if I kept you around. I changed my mind since then, but I was already taking, you found out and…” 

 

Lucifer stops. He's not nearly strong enough to talk this much now, his lungs are already giving up. He closes his eyes again, shaking his head slightly.

 

“It's just… not your fault.” 

 

Cain seems to be digesting those words. “Does that mean you'll take me back?” 

 

Lucifer squeezes Cain's hand. “Only if you take me back.” 

 

Soon after that, Lucifer fell back asleep only to be awoken a few hours later by Gabriel, the little brother hissing and crying and nearly screaming at Lucifer for being so reckless and stupid. He was loud enough to bring the hospital staff’s attention, but he calmed down just as quick, seeing just how powerless Lucifer was in that moment. However, Gabriel still did threaten his brother to leave him on his own, as well as never let him around his nephews again if this accident wasn't the absolute last one.

 

Upon a rather long conversation, they agreed that Lucifer would sign into a rehabilitation centre for three months and keep attending therapy afterwards. These were the only reasons that would keep Lucifer would of jail, and in his brother's life. 

 

Cain stayed with Lucifer most of the time during his two-week long stay at the hospital. They used this time to talk—openly and honestly talk—for what seemed to be the first time. They assured each other about their feelings over and over again, both of them still scared after Lucifer's attempt. Cain stopped blaming himself for everything and Lucifer accepted that there was someone who truly loved him for him.

 

Things were supposed to get better from then on, and this time Lucifer was going to make sure of it.


	9. e p i l o g u e

Lucifer wakes up in the middle of the night to an unsettlingly quiet bedroom. He reaches over to the bedside table and slides his glasses on, squinching his eyes as he reads the green digits of the clock. It's two am, and he's alone. He honestly, truly hates it—randomly waking up in the middle of the night to an empty, cold bed. Oh, well, this is his life now.

 

With a grunt, Lucifer drags himself out of the bed, shivering in the cool air. It's gotten way too cold since he went to sleep. With that thought in his mind, he closes the nearby window and pulls a hoodie over the T-shirt he slept in before heading out of the bedroom His bare feet don't make a sound as he makes his way out of his bedroom and cautiously approaches another room, pushing the door open. 

 

He honestly doesn't know he's expected to see, but the sight melts his heart either way. 

 

Cain is standing in the middle of the nursery, his hair still wild from sleep, his shoulders covered with that ugly red robe Lucifer despises so much. He's holding a tiny bundle in his arms, rocking it slowly as he hums a quiet melody. It's a lullaby.

 

“He woke you up?” Lucifer asks quietly as he approaches his husband, looking over Cain's shoulder at the baby sleeping in his arms. 

 

Little Jack is resting his blond head against his papa’s chest, holding onto the man's fingers with his tiny hand as he suckles on a pacifier contently. 

 

Cain nods, pressing a kiss to the side of Lucifer's head. “It's the teething again,” he whispers in response. “He wasn't even hungry, it just hurts him.” 

 

“It will be over soon enough,” Lucifer strums, reaching out to gently caress his son’s chubby cheek. “Maybe then we'll get some sleep.” 

 

“Just go back to bed if you're tired, I can take care of him.” 

 

Lucifer shakes his head and rests his chin on Cain's shoulder, looking down at the baby wrapped in a soft yellow blanket. “No, no. This is fine.” 

 

Cain chuckles softly. “I love you. Both of you.” 

 

“Yeah. I love you, too,” Lucifer murmurs back, and he means it.

 

He's happy.


End file.
